In my living room is a coffee table piled with books. There are probably between twenty and thirty books there on any given day. This is my pile of books to be read. The books I’ve already read are piled haphazardly in the corners of the room. Those piles of already-read books grow slowly throughout the passing years. Book by book I am slowly entombing myself and worry that some day I won’t be able to move from my reading couch anymore. I shall be trapped by all my pretties and perhaps become encased in David Foster Wallace novels and commentaries by Aquinas. Some future archaeologist will discover my skeletal remains gently clutching my french press in one bony claw and an Edith Wharton novel draped over the holes where my eyes used to be. Don’t cry for me. I will have died happy, surrounded by all my best friends.
Anyway, the piles of already-read books are growing, but the equivalent pile of to-be-read books never seems to diminish in proportion. I’ve been actively trying to make it stop for years now. I’ve promised myself that I’m going to read what I already own before purchasing any more – a wise man values the treasures he has instead of yearning for what he does not – but then a new collection of Chesterton essays is released, Pope Benedict rewrites the intro to a liturgical tome, or the used book store around the corner acquires a new stash of Muriel Spark novels. Before I know it, I realize a twenty-dollar bill is burning a hole in my pocket and I hasten off, soon to return with new treasures clutched in my hot little hands as I carry them into my lair where I oh-so-gently place them on the coffee table pile.
I do read. I promise that I do read these books. It isn’t a pointless indulgence. There are, however, a few books that have been floating around in the pile for years and years now. My pile is highly unorganized and I tend to pick whatever shiny new masterpiece has caught my attention in the moment. I don’t have any sort of organized reading schedule (I’m not a monster), so the pile is always there, and some books in it may never be read – a telltale heart of secret shame.
Friends, do you have the same problem? We’re not alone!
The Japanese are here to help, and they’ve diagnosed our condition.
TSUNDOKU: THE ACQUIRING OF READING MATERIALS FOLLOWED BY LETTING THEM PILE UP AND SUBSEQUENTLY NEVER READING THEM
Let’s do some market research to see how bad off we all are:
How do you stack your books?
- Add the new book to the bottom of the pile and read from the top like an accountant
- I’m basically buried in them
- Add it to the top, newest is best
- Randomly add it to the bookshelf and forget about it forever
- stuff them under the sink and in the trunk of the car
Do you have a book acquisition policy?
- One-in-one out
- I buy what I want regardless of the consequences
- If I get too many for the bookshelves I start selling and giving away
Who is your enemy?
- library book sales
- generous friends
- the used book store guy
- amazon wishlist
1. Add to the top
2. Buy regardless of consequences–except for the occasional rush of guilt that makes me pare the shelves down ruthlessly. (IE, by 5 books. Maybe 10. I doubt I’ve ever gotten rid of more than that at once.)
3. Amazon wishlist. If I’m being honest, this is the only part that makes me feel guilty. That two day shipping is so seductive …
I am getting too old to live in my home and am facing downsizing. I have been donating books, giving them to children, etc. The last group was 236 books donated. I still have bookshelves full, many with books doubled on each shelf – or books lying down on top of books standing to fit them all in. Every room in our 4 bedroom house has at least one book shelf. There are still many that I can’t bear to part with – (and I’m talking hundreds of them, some read and some on the “to-read” list) I recently checked my amazon kindle list. If I could read a book a day on my kindle, it would take me 7 years to read the entire list. And I have hundreds of books in the house to read. (You know, if that magnetic burst ever happens, everything on the kindle will be wiped clean.) I have to accept that I will never, ever be able to read all I have here. I am getting better about not buying more books, but the library is still there – and I can read those free! It is indeed a serious problem!
1) Recently, my to-read pile has gotten so high I have had to separate it into two piles – history/theology and art/novels – and stack by size so as not to endanger passers by with a precarious pile.
2) The only consequence I fear is that the pile may run out!
3) No guilt.